


On The Wings of Lilith

by drippingwithsin



Category: The Devil Wears Prada (2006)
Genre: BDSM, F/F, Forced Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-29
Updated: 2018-06-29
Packaged: 2019-05-30 05:13:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15089753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drippingwithsin/pseuds/drippingwithsin
Summary: Punishment does not always equal pain.





	On The Wings of Lilith

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little something to pass the time. Wrote it this afternoon so it's probably not too great. Ah well. Enjoy!

In the centre of an oriental rug upon bended knee, she waits. Prays.

There’s a spine straightening metallic click followed by a swoosh. Her goddess appears. A maddening combination of seduction and innocence. She saunters in with purpose, a riding crop firmly in her grasp. Her long, albeit muscular legs are enveloped in leather knee-high boots so tight they ripple with each movement.  

Across her chest, black lace over crimson a corset bulges with creamy breasts while simultaneously hugging a deliciously sized six torso within a boa’s lethal embrace. Down below, La Perla reigns covering the true prize with a strip of lace.

“Hello, pet.” Andrea coos saccharine, tauntingly. Mouse no longer, the snake does hiss.

“Mistress,” Miranda greets. Impassiveness belied by the excitement surging in her belly.

A purr of approval.

“You were very naughty today, Randi.” She chides as if the formidable woman at her feet was nothing more than a misbehaved child.

Mirandy bristles at the nickname but forces herself to remain passive. “I’m sorry, Mistress.” She lowers her head and looks to a point in front of Andrea’s feet, conveying her submission.

Another hum. “You will be.”

And oh, how can one tiny sentence hold so many possibilities, so many- _promises._

The end of a crop touches Miranda lightly on the shoulder, prompting a slight intake of air as the cool leather touches heated skin. It slides languidly to just beneath her chin and adds a bit of pressure making her look up.

Smoldering coals lock onto glimmering sapphires. Both holding a world’s worth of treasures. Lust, love, dominance, submission; the list carries on.

The crop descends, going between the peaked mounds to the hidden wellspring just between Miranda's thighs. It glides through moisture with the slightest amount of pressure for a moment then  **SMACK.** Miranda jumps and nearly hisses when the tortuous instrument comes down directly on her clit.

“Spread your legs wider."

She complies to the command unquestioningly.

It does not go unrewarded.

“Good girl,” Comes a purr and already Miranda aches to touch herself, to slide her fingers deep into her slit and rub at the throbbing bundle of nerves threatening to send her to the brink of insanity.

But she doesn’t. To do so will mean punishment.

The crop parts through slick folds, teasing and taunting, circling until her clit is aching for release. **SMACK**. Miranda jolts as if electrocuted. Still, she remains silent. Ever the good girl. It hits her again, and again and again. Each one sending shockwaves throughout Miranda's body, driving her closer to the brink with each one.

Suddenly without warning though it moves away. No, she wants to wail. Scream. Throw a tantrum.

“Do you really think you deserve to be rewarded today after the way you spoke to me earlier?” Andrea questions her coldly, but Miranda sees it for what it truly is. Bait.

“No, mistress.”

A hand reaches down and twists one of her nipples.

“ _Ah_ ,” Miranda nearly shouts, and hisses as a maddening amount of pain and pleasure shoots through her.

Hands fist at heaving sides. Teeth grind. She will obey. It releases her only to grab the other one.

"Mistress..." She whimpers for any sort of relief and is thoroughly prepared to beg for it if she must. Whatever it takes to end this agony.

"You will wait or you’ll get nothing. Do you understand?" The edge in the voice raises above intense. Andrea cups Miranda chin roughly. "I said do you understand?”

"Yes, Mistress." The reply is almost a moan, yet an acknowledgment all the same.

“Good girl.” She praises and to Miranda's utter horror, strolls away.

She does not go far but still manages to be miles away.

Andrea perches on the end of her king sized bed, back straight and face full authority. She peers down at Miranda akin to a disappointed teacher at an unruly student.

“Come here.”

Miranda shuffles awkwardly on knees over to her mistress. Holding in a hiss when the carpet burns.

“Look at me. Watch.”

Andrea spreads her legs revealing an enticing strip of damp black lace. With long fingers she pushes the fabric to the side, showing off a neatly trimmed thatch of dark curls glistening in the dim lighting. She combs through the mound like a favored pet all the while staring daringly down her prey.

Miranda’s mouth goes dry and wet all at the same time. Oh God, please no. She can’t.

A devilish smile flashes her way. Ooh yes.

Andrea lets go of the fabric only to grasp it at her sides. Her eyes lock back onto Miranda's once more. Andrea slides them down languidly with teasing purpose.

“That’s it, pet. Keep watching.” She leans back on one arm, giving a full-on view of the treasure between her legs. And Miranda’s nostrils flare to life when a blast of perfumed air bombards her senses.

God, how she wants to lean forward, with tongue or fingers extended. But knows that kind of insubordination will cost her dearly.

Pale hands glide sensually over the corset, lace, and curves. Taking their ever so valuable sweet time. An exaggerated breathy moan and sigh making Miranda whimper.

They move downward still, stroking outer lips softly before parting them with her middle fingers. She idly runs it back and forth.

White teeth sink into a plump bottom lip. Andy keeps glazed eyes firmly attached to the other woman while she slips two fingers inside. She pumps leisurely, making sure Miranda sees every centimeter of them disappear.

Sapphires go deep oceanic. Miranda’s breathing picks up with the rhythm. Her clit gives a sympathy(jealous) twinge. This has to be the sweetest of agonies there ever was.

Andrea cups her right breast. There, she squeezes roughly. Agile thumb coaxing her nipple to harden beneath the material. She hisses in pleasure, pain. For Miranda’s torture.

Chest heaving, sweat forming on her brow, Miranda will gladly strike a match to her own personal closet just for a mere taste.

“Please,” She says before she can stop herself. Nonetheless, it goes ignored.

With a gasp, Andrea arches against her hand as the other hand remains busy with her breasts. Another finger is added and she begins pumping vigorously, using the heel of her hand to slam against her clit. It consequence making the most obscene wet noises.

_She’s close so damn close._

Miranda watches with rapid fascination(hunger) as the fingers plunge in deeper. Go faster until they turn into a blur of movement.

Then it happens. Andrea arches her back in rapture. Her head tips backwards displaying that gorgeously flushed neck and chest.

“ _Yesyesyes._ Ah,” She bucks a few times trying to prolong the trip to ecstasy.

A few seconds pass. The room goes quiet with only their raspy breathing keep it from being deathly.

Andrea blinks open hazy eyes and looks at Miranda. A tiny quirk tugs at her lip. She withdraws her fingers. The slick wetness coating them to the knuckle. She holds them out to her.

“Lick.”

Miranda’s latches on hungrily like an infant to a teat, moaning lewdly when Andrea’s rich flavoring bursts on her tongue.

“Good girl.” Another hand strokes her hair.

**END**


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